


Flatterers and Fools

by Bandteesandfishnets



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Dark Sansa, F/M, One Shot, mentioned SanSan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 22:36:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7659532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bandteesandfishnets/pseuds/Bandteesandfishnets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>King Aegon and Queen Arya come visit their allies in the north. Queen Sansa broods and drinks as she reflects on the state of her life as King Jon Stark's wife and both of their relationships with their little sister. If only these silly birds would quit their chirping and leave her to her wine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flatterers and Fools

Flatterers and Fools. The lot of them. There was once a time when I would pray for a knight to come to me. Handsome and splendid with golden hair and dreamy eyes. Tell me I'm beautiful and carry me away to a lone tower so that we could live forever in bliss.  
A fool I was... A queen I am. But what is a queen who lives a life with no love. My king is my best friend. My confidant. My brother. My husband gives me everything I could wish for except for his love.  
The queen in the north. The queen with beauty and a brain. The queen with all of the honor and no heirs.  
Sansa sits back in her throne gazing all of the patrons that have come to celebrate the return of the "Lost Wolf."  
No need to remind them that Arya Stark had been found over 4 years ago. She is no more lost than she is honorable. Arya Stark had found her way home. She found her way into my husband's heart, and then she found herself into his brother's bed. A queen I may be but she is the queen. The queen of the southern kingdoms and the queen of Jon Stark's love. I am simply a queen of bitterness and regret.  
This wine, however, is exquisite. Mayhaps I can drown myself in it before I have to witness the debauchery of my kin on this night.  
Sansa takes another sip of the arbor gold that King Aegon had brought with them. It was a rarity in the north and gods damn it she was going to enjoy at least one thing during their visit.  
"Your sister is astonishing your grace," one of these clucking hens say in passing. Surely trying to flatter me. "I'm sure you are beyond proud of her accomplishments."  
Flatterer! I want to throttle the girl. I am in awe of Arya. The things she survived are unfathomable. I am proud of her. I am happy that she lives. More than anything I love her. I resent her but I love her. Gods I love her more than I even love Jon. But if this halfwit thinks that complimenting the one person in this world that I resent more than any Lannister is a form of flattery she is sorely mistaken. I drained the rest of my glass and stared blankly, not even bothering to respond.  
Mayhaps that was impolite. Mayhaps this one lady is the only person in this castle who does not know the worst kept secret of the north. That since three nights past the king in the north has become most pious at the least appropriate times. Mayhaps I should smile and say my courtesies. But I'm in no mood to play pretty bird, so fuck courtesies, fuck this feast, and fuck you.  
Jon grabs my wrist and begins whispering into my ear. Concern etched into his brow.  
"Mayhaps you've had enough, my queen."  
I laugh at that. I laugh at the fact that he has finally found it fit to take his eyes off of his brother's wife, our "little sister" as he likes to call her, and it is only to monitor my alcohol intake.  
"I thought the same of you after the last visit from our sister."  
Jon looks at me confused. And it both saddens and angers me that he still will not admit what I already know.  
"Where were you last night, your grace?" I ask pointedly.  
"In the gods wood." He answers honestly, innocently.  
"Where was she?" I ask in a way that lets him know that I already know the answer.  
He has the grace to look shamed. But lets go of my wrist all the same calling over a serving wench with a canter full of wine. I take the entire bottle and drink straight from it.  
"She is not nearly as beautiful as you are, your grace" another simpering lady sniggers as Arya twirls gracefully around the room with King Aegon. "the last babe has left his mark around her middle. I don't understand the fascination."  
Fool! I wasn't always as loyal as I could be to my sister. Mayhaps that is the reason she feels she can disparage Arya in my presence. She is wrong! And more than that she is lying. Even with the weight from her third child lingering on her waist she and Sansa were practically the same size. Her once ratty hair now flowed beautifully to her waist. Her horsey grin that used to be the cause of many jokes now shined in a way that Sansa's forced smiles never would. Arya was beautiful. Arya was wanted. Arya was loved.  
"It may not be meant for you to understand. Mayhaps you should try harder to figure out what it is that your husband has found so fascinating beneath that serving girls skirts." I say nodding toward the new lord of the dreadfort with his eyes on the peasant girls breasts and his hands conspicuously out of sight.  
The lady turns red. I can not tell if it is from anger or embarrassment. I do not care. She stands and walks to her husband. I sit back and finish the last of the canter of wine not caring who saw me as a lush.  
Arya has the love of two kings. She has the admiration of the entire realm. She has the respect of the small folk. I have not even been able to bear an heir for our kingdom, meanwhile Arya has had three. No matter that the last son looks nothing like his siblings. No silver hair or purple eyes on that one he was all stark. Aegon naively believes that the child looks like his mother. No. When I look at the boy I see the same thing that Arya sees. When Jon looks at the prince, he sees his own son. One of the many things I have not been able to give him. Not that the "living god" that is Jon Stark has made it any easier. Coming to my chambers only once a fortnight. And even then he is drunk on grief and ale before he can bring himself to touch me. Arya has her love and her lover. Arya has a sister that could not hate her if I tried. Gods be good she even has the son that should have been mine. This bit of wine is the least I deserve. Hells I could bathe in a river of Dornish red and it still would not be enough.  
I realized long ago that life is not a song. I realized far too late that a man does not have to be a knight to be a hero. I realized that I loved a man that I once considered a monster. I realized that though he was not pretty, though he was not rich, though he could not give me a title he would have been able to give me the one thing that I do not have. Love. But who knows for sure. Mayhaps even that was a dream.  
I no longer dream of knights and towers. I no longer think of love and children. Now I long only for a husband who does not lust after the sister that I wish I could hate. I truly want nothing more than to live a life without catering to the flatterers and fools of court. But all I ask for at this moment as I raise the empty canter in the air is...  
"More wine..."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm normally not a fan of the jon/sansa pairing. Honestly that tag is usually enough to make me skip a story. A while ago, however, I read one in a drabble that I have not been able to find since. I haven't been able to get this out of my head so I wrote one of my own. Hope you guys enjoy. Lmk what you think.


End file.
